Guilt
by Cold Ember
Summary: Gibbs feels guilty about how he's treated Tony. Gibbs thoughts. Chapter 1 is all of S4 and future chapters will be each episode of S5. Basically each ep gets a chapter, unless I have nothing to work with. It's kind of hard to explain. Not Slash.
1. Chapter 1

**Okay, new story time. This is most likely gonna turn into a longer story, but it can work as a stand alone oneshot. I wrote this ages ago(as in February) and then life got really, madly busy and kinda forgot about it until I went through my inbox a couple of weeks ago and found it. Anyway, the tense was a bit screwy, but my wonderful beta VanishingP2000 helped me sort it out(I think I had about 3 different tenses in it at first) and so hopefully all is well now. Anyway, I have a general outline for what gonna happen later in this story, but right now I'm still working on chapter 2. So here we go, please review and I'll try to get the rest done asap.**

**This is basically Gibbs thought regarding Tony throughout season 4, each section is a different episode and I think I made it clear which eps they were, but if you have any questions email me and I'll let you know.**

**Again big, big thank you to my beta VanighingP2000. Any remaining mistakes are mine.**

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"My son, Tony, plays that all the time." As I spoke I knew everyone except Tony would think that I was just creating a connection with Abraham's trust. And while that was part of it, part of me hoped that Tony would see it for what it was: My own way of apologizing. I knew that Tony knew me well enough to see that. At least, that was the way it had been, before Mexico. Mexico is why I needed to apologize in the first place, for leaving in the first place and for the way that I had come back. I knew I should have apologized a long time ago, but somehow I could never quite manage to swallow my stupid pride.

Who'd have ever thought the thing that would ultimately spur me to make this pseudo apology was Tony actually talking a kid _out_ of joining the Marine Corps? But the way that Tony had dealt with that kid reminded me of why I had hired-after practically stalking him for a week trying to get him to listen-the screw up Baltimore Homicide Detective. He made people open up, telling him their deepest, darkest secrets. Because in their minds he was an idiotic playboy who didn't have the brains to be a danger to them. They always looked so shocked when Tony nailed them. His easy going facade of incompetence-he almost radiated it at times-fooled most people. But it had never fooled me. Tony was easy to talk to, people let their guard down around him, made them _want_ to talk to him, basically the opposite effect I had on people. We made the perfect yin and yang team.

Most people still couldn't understand why I had hired Tony, let alone why I'd kept him around and made him Senior Field Agent. Kate had never understood, never seen past his mask. She had always been shocked when Tony broke a case, even though it happened on a practically weekly basis. McGee hadn't understood why I put so much confidence in Tony at the beginning, either, but he picked up quickly. He stopped being surprised after about a year, although he still was taken aback when Tony outsmarted him on a computer, which didn't happen very often anyway.

Abby had wondered about him at first, but she had seen past the mask more than most and her and Tony's minds worked on the same frequency. A strange, disturbing frequency that I didn't understand and didn't really want to find out about. But they worked well together. If talking about kinky fetishes helped them solve cases, I wasn't about to interfere. Ducky was never fooled by masks, he didn't even buy my cold, uncaring Marine exterior, so he knew right off the bat that the DiNozzo kid that I had dragged back from Baltimore was something special. I thought that Ziva saw through some of Tony's mask, too, but you could never be sure with Ziva. She made digs at Tony, but they were more of an "I could kick your ass, so watch it" nature than Kate's condescending "I'm smarter than you'll ever be" comments.

But Tony had changed. That frat boy persona was still there but it was much more reserved, less visible. He was now more serious, more often. And I missed the old Tony. Many people said that the change in Tony was a good thing, but I knew better.

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How the hell did I not know? My senior Field Agent has been working on an undercover op-and, apparently, not just one, but many-for months and I had no idea. People always say that I know everything. Well, apparently not. Because this one went way above my head and I never even looked up once. And I still wouldn't have a clue if Tony hadn't been so shocked to see that picture. But it does tend to be surprising when a picture that you yourself took months ago and one which you've been trying to get an ID on ever since pops up with a name attached on an apparently completely unrelated case. 

Am I seriously that clueless about what my own team is doing right in front of my face? Maybe everyone was right; maybe I should have just stayed in Mexico. I used to be able to read Tony, not exactly well, but better than most. Now I have no idea what's going on in his head most of the time. Maybe he's gotten better at hiding behind his mask or maybe I just don't know him anymore. Ducky was right, I really did let him down.

He thinks that I'm mad at him because he didn't tell me about the op. I'm not. Sure, I'm pissed that Jenny didn't tell me, but as much as I hate to admit it, I get why she did it. It doesn't mean I have to like it. But Tony I'm not mad at. Jenny ordered him not to tell me. And honestly, before I think he might have said the hell with orders and told me anyway, but now…. Now, I don't know if he trusts me anymore. And I can't blame him for losing his faith in me. I don't think I would trust me anymore, either. I wouldn't blame him if he didn't tell me out of simple spite, I sure as hell would deserve it, but I know he didn't. Because that's just not Tony. No, I'm not mad at Tony.

The person I'm pissed at is me. Because I didn't notice. Because I didn't give him a reason to tell me. Because I failed him. I alienated him, the closest thing I've ever had to a son and I made him lose his trust in me. Now I just have to figure out how to fix this mess, before it's too late.

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As I watch him sink back and take his blood soaked hands off the bullet wound in the body of the now dead detective I realize that it could have been him. It was so close to being Tony lying dead in that alley. So close to me losing him forever. And he still thinks that I hate him. Which I don't and I never have. But I think that at this point he hates me. He should, I've given him every reason to. As he looks up at me I know he can see the way I'm looking at him and he looks confused. Like he doesn't expect that I would care if it was him lying dead on the cold pavement. 

But there's something else there. It's the same look that he had when I opened the car door after the White catastrophe. Guilt and pain. Like it's his fault, like maybe it _should_ have been him. He'd bonded with that detective, I knew that, and knew that Tony cared about people. Which was a miracle, every murder still got to him after all this time and he showed it. It was one of the reasons he'd never liked Philadelphia and Baltimore, cities like that murders were old news, they happened all the time and they were no big deal. And the detectives became indifferent to death.

There was a time when he would have shown up on my doorstep tonight and sat in my basement watching me work on the boat all night long. But that was before and I doubted that it would be happening tonight. And that thought makes my heart sink. He gets up and moves towards me and for a moment I hope that he'll open up to me, but he just briefs me on what happened. Short and to the point. Succinct, like I trained him to be. I ask him if he's okay and he just brushes me off, saying that he's fine, just tired. I nod and tell him to go home, get some rest; we can deal with the paperwork. This elicits a small, grateful smile from him. It's one of his few genuine ones, he's relieved, like he thought I was actually going to force him to do all the paperwork before I let him go home tonight. And that's probably my fault, letting him think I don't care anymore.

I need to make this right, before he decides to take Fornell up on his standing offer to leave NCIS and join the FBI. And that is the last thing I would ever want to happen. And not just because I hate seeing Fornell and the FBI in general. But because I don't know what I would do without DiNozzo around. I really need to figure out how the hell I'm gonna get out of this mess and I need to do it fast.

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I got another call from the hospital, definitely not the first since this radiation debacle started. But this one was different. It wasn't about Sanders condition, or even about Ziva threatening the staff with various forms of physical violence (there had been 3 such calls already, which, while not entirely unexpected, were beginning to grate on my nerves. But the terror in the hospital staff's voices did provide some level of amusement.). No, this time it was about Tony. About how they thought that he might be contaminated. They were currently running tests to check and they had wanted to inform me of the situation. I think I stopped breathing when the doctor said those words. I was right back in that eerie blue isolation bubble watching him fight for every breath. 

I know there's no point in me going down there because they weren't going to let me in. And now I really needed to find that bastard. Because anyone who messes with my team will pay. Especially anyone who messes with Tony. I found the need to really make people pay often. Actually, now that I think back, the last time Tony got into a mess was…months ago. When Franks had hit him over the head, if that could be counted. The last time before that had been well before Mexico. He was due when I left. I wonder if anything ever happened. I should ask Ducky.

The doctor called back again, false alarm. I let out the breath that I had been holding for what seemed like the 2 and a half solid hours since the last call. Tony was fine, he was okay. But still…what if he hadn't been? What if tomorrow he got shot? What would I do if he died thinking I hated him and most likely, hating me back? I don't have an answer, which scares me. I always have an answer. Abby always says that there's not a question that I can't answer. What would she say now? She'd probably smack me and tell me to make it up to Tony. Even imaginary Abby is smarter than I am. How many more close calls am I going to need to just swallow my damn pride and tell him that I'm sorry for being an ass and royally living up to the second b in my name? Hopefully before its one close call too many and I'm attending his funeral. Maybe when this case is over, I'll grab a six pack and an extra large pizza-pepperoni, sausage, extra cheese-and head over to DiNozzo's.

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It could have been us. Hell, it should have been us. It could be us every day of the week. And I still haven't told him that I'm sorry. Because I am an idiot. It almost was Tony, not Paula today. He was only a split second behind her, the only reason it wasn't him was because she was closer to the door. The door that led to the apartment that Ziva had supposedly cleared only moments before. Obviously she hadn't done a very good job. I'd have to deal with that later. Another reason why Tony was my senior field Agent, when I told him to do something he made damn sure it was done as well as was humanly possible. That's why I'd sent Tony to look for the secret door, even though Ziva had questioned him. She had wanted to go, saying that she was the spy and better trained in the fine art of secret door finding. Okay, those hadn't been her exact words, but it ended up meaning the same thing. I doubt Ziva would have ever thought to get a cigar and look to see where the smoke went. Only DiNozzo. DiNozzo and his stupid movies, which came in handy surprisingly often. 

I saw the look in his eyes right after the room-along with Paula-exploded. He just...collapsed against the wall, looking completely and utterly defeated. The last time I saw that look in his eyes was…actually, now that I think of it, I've never seen such a grief stricken look in his eyes. Not after White, not when the detective had died. Not even as he had looked down at Kate's still body on that rooftop. Tony had _loved_ Paula.

Today when I said that I was putting my money on DiNozzo cracking the case, they had looked at me and I could tell that they thought I'd lost my faith in Tony's abilities. It would take a hell of a lot more for me to lose my faith in his abilities. I don't think I would lose my faith in him even if he got me killed. But apparently everyone thought that I had, including Tony.

Which is why I'm standing outside his apartment at almost midnight, freezing my ass off hoping that he'll answer the door. But I don't think I really expected him to be home tonight. I know that he's either in a bar right now or with his girlfriend. It surprised Ziva that I knew Tony wasn't sick, that he had a girlfriend. That Tony DiNozzo was in a serious relationship. But I know him well enough to figure out what was going on. He doesn't flirt with everything in a skirt anymore, which is…an interesting change, to say the least. So I guess the apology will have to wait. Again.

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**Okay, hope y'all enjoyed it! Please review, I love to get peoples opinions on my work! I'll try to get the rest of the story done and posted asap!**


	2. Bury Your Dead Part 1

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**Chapter ****2 **

**Bury Your Dead **

**_Part 1_**

Tony was dead. It was too late. No matter how many times I sit here, watching and re-watching the footage, I still see the same thing I had seen in MTAC earlier that day. Tony's car exploding in a fireball. The sight of Tony's burnt out shell of a car in the middle of the road, the charcoal black body in the driver's seat. And Ducky's voice, saying that death would have been instantaneous. Jenny took our team off the case. She said that we were too close. That I was too close. That it was the first time she had ever seen me cry at a crime scene. And she's right. I've never cried at a crime scene before. I was a Marine. Death was nothing new. I didn't cry. I didn't even cry when Kate was killed. The last time I actually remember crying over someone's death was Shannon and Kelly. Which fits really. Tony was like a son to me and now he's dead. And he died thinking I was indifferent to him. I'm really living up to that second B.

I sent my team home hours ago. McGee had been the first to leave, dragging a hysterically sobbing Abby with him. It broke my heart to see her like that. I'd never seen her cry so openly. Sure, she cried when Kate had died, but she'd pretended that she was alright. But now, she didn't even bother to try and hide it. Ziva had wanted to stay and investigate it anyway but Jen had convinced her to leave. I'm not sure what she said, as the entire conversation was in Hebrew, but I honestly don't care what she said. She got Ziva to leave that was the important part. Jen left with Ziva, looking as if she wanted to cry. Ducky had attempted to get me to leave, but I refused, telling him that if I went home I would end up smashing the boat and it wouldn't make me feel better anyway. Plus I needed this boat. I couldn't smash it. After Ducky finally left I just pulled up the footage and put it on loop.

I've been watching the 2 and a half minute clip for over four hours now. I'm trying to avoid the fact that I'm going to have to plan a funeral for my Senior Field Agent. My friend. The man who is the closest thing I ever had to a son. His family doesn't give a crap, I'm his next of kin and I have his power of attorney, which means I have to deal with the funeral preparations. Hell if I know what he wants. That's a lie really. I know exactly what he'd want. But it doesn't make me want to do it. He told me that if he was ever killed in line of duty he wanted to be cremated and have his ashes spread at sea. Adding, in true DiNozzo fashion, that he wanted me to do it from my basement boat, if I ever managed to finish one. I've decided on a name for the boat I just started building. _The DiNozzo._ I'll take time off. I'll finish the boat and I'll grant Tony's last wish. I just wish I didn't have to. I wish it had been me. It should have been me. I let him down. For the last time.

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	3. Bury Your Dead Part 2

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**_Okay, so here's the chap for what actually happened in Bury Your Dead (finally). I haven't gotten much inspiration from NCIS so far this season and I'm kinda on a NUMB3RS fic writing spree, probably because they had given me a veritable smorgasbord of angst, character development and generally great fanfic writing material. And NCIS has given me almost nothing. But that might change next week. Anyway, I have a couple more eps done, which I'll post soon, but I'm buried under all the fics running around my head, school and NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month, writing 50,000 words in one month. It's actually a NCIS/NUMB3RS crossover fic, so I'll probably post it whenever it's done. And beta'd.) Anyway, enjoy! It's pretty short, as are all of them, due to the lack of material they've given me. I been making stuff up like crazy just to get a few hundred words out of the stuff. Anyway, I am rambling (as usual), so with out further ado..._**

**_Okay, more ado. Big thanks to my wonderful beta, VanishingP2000!_**_**

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Bury Your Dead**_

_**Part 2**_

When Ducky came into the bullpen all excited, I just knew that DiNozzo was alive. Or, at least that he wasn't the body in the morgue. I never actually believed that he was dead; this was just actual evidence for my theory, really. But there was no way I was going to tell Abby that he wasn't dead when I didn't know for sure. I wasn't going to take the chance that he actually was dead and encourage her denial. Because if I had told her that he wasn't dead she would have never believed it no matter what the evidence said, because if my gut said Tony wasn't dead then there was no way he was dead in her mind. I wasn't going to let her suffer with the denial if it turned out to be him. I doubted that I would have ever truly believed that he was dead no matter what evidence told me, but I wasn't going to drag her down that pit with me.

When Jen's first thought had been that it might lead us to the frog, it took all my effort not to kill her right there. Somehow I managed to keep my voice relatively calm as I added that it could lead us to Tony. Her main concern should have been finding the missing, possibly injured and/or in mortal peril NCIS Special Agent, not continuing her ridiculous vendetta, that, incidentally, was the reason that Tony was missing.

Seeing Tony standing there in the elevator of NCIS, apparently unharmed and most definitely alive, was quite possibly the most wonderful thing that I have ever seen. We finally knew that he was alive and safe for sure. I was more than willing to put a few rounds through Trent Kort's head for attacking DiNozzo at that point. And I think that the CIA had left him just enough brain cells to come to that conclusion as well. Ziva's gun pointed at him along with his familiarity with Mossad couldn't have hurt, either.

Tony just shut Jen down when she asked about his conversation with Jeanne. Words cannot express how proud I was that he had learned the fine art of subtly telling his superiors to shove it. I've taught him well.

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	4. Family

**_Right. Here's the next chapter for Family. It's really, really short, but hey... the chapter for Leap of Faith (which is longer, but not much) will be up soon._**

**_Big thanks to my wonderful beta, VanishingP2000!_**

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**_Family _**

I look over at Tony kneeling next to the fireplace, staring at the letter that he had found in Jeanne's apartment addressed to him. I hoped to God that I wasn't about to lose my senior field agent to Jen's moronic schemes and her obsessive vendetta against Rene Benoit. But then I saw Tony drop the letter into the fire and I knew that he'd be okay; it would just take some time. And I know that I'll have some company building the boat for the next few weeks.

When he looked over at us, I smiled slightly and I saw the ghost of a smile grace his features. In that moment, things felt more normal than they had since before I had gone to Mexico. Things might just turn out okay after all.

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	5. Leap of Faith

_**Wow, its been a while, hasn't it? Other than my NaNoWrimo fic, The Enigma of Colby Granger, which is a NUMB3RS/NCIS crossover fic, I haven't written anything in the NCIS fandom in ages. I have to say that my muse just isn't working with NCIS right now, it is firmly planted in the NUMB3RS universe. However, I am trying to get back to writing some NCIS stuff. I've been going back and rereading all my NCIS fics and their reviews in an attempt to get myself in a mindset to write NCIS, so hopefully I write something again soon! As for this chapter, I just actually found it on my computer. I've had it written for ages and ready to go, but I guess I just forgot about it, what with senior year starting and all. But as I was going though and deleting some of my old, unnessacary documents (why do I still have a paper from eigth grade social studies on my computer? Or my seventh grade research paper on Benjamin Franklin?) and I found this, so I figured I'd post it. Hopefully it gets me back in a mindset where I can write some new NCIS stuff! Anyway, enough of me rambling, onto the fic.**_

_**I own nothing. I know, its a very sad truth to be sure. Big thanks to my beta, VanishingP2000.

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Leap of Faith

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How is it that DiNozzo is always the one who gets into these messes? Why is he always the one that ends up getting kidnapped by psycho waitresses, framed for murder by lab rats, ends up on the run with a psycho killer he doesn't know is a psycho killer and what was that last one? Oh yeah, getting the pneumonic plague. Honestly, I've never seen anyone with such crappy luck, yet somehow he always survives. Not to even mention that insane undercover op for Jen. And now he is hanging off a ledge, 15 stories up after psycho spy tried to run him down with her car. He really attracts the crazy chicks, DiNozzo does. I know that he has issues with heights, for understandable reasons and this could not have helped at all.

When I heard him yell, I swear my heart stopped for a moment. Thank God McGee got to him when he did, because I could see Tony's grip slipping and I knew that he wouldn't have been able to hang on much longer.

In all honesty, Tony is probably just as afraid, if not more so, of heights than McGee is, he just hides it better. This is a skill that McGee is really going to need to master sooner or later, preferably sooner. All I know about how Tony developed his fear of heights is that it stems from his father, which is really all anyone who is remotely familiar with DiNozzo Sr. needs by way of an explanation.

But DiNozzo doesn't let it screw with him the way McGee does. For example, despite his fear, he was still more than happy to go parachuting, which admittedly probably made his fear all the worse because of how that went all to hell. This makes the sound of my front door opening and closing and footsteps descending the stairs behind me entirely unsurprising tonight. DiNozzo didn't let much show at the parking garage, but I could tell that he was really rattled. So I simply toss him a sander and a small, reassuring smile before we both set to work in comfortable silence. Sometimes all you need is to know you're not alone.

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End file.
